Bittersweet
by Lady Inusaki
Summary: In a stroke of genius, Australia invited the UK brothers  plus Ireland  to his house for Christmas. Naturally, things don't turn out quite as planned... Rated T just in case. I own nothing. R&R.


It was the day before Christmas Eve. It was like any other year - or it would have been if Australia hadn't suddenly phoned England and invited the other nation to a family Christmas gathering. Wy, though she hadn't said anything alluding to it, really wanted to meet her oldest brothers, having already met Sealand and New Zealand. England had considered refusing, but he really had nothing else to do. America usually called, but the younger nation seldom popped in on the holidays (he was boycotting winter forever, he had declared). A few of his former colonies would tender their good wishes, and France and Finland could always be counted on to show up (the former being always unwanted and usually inebriated) but Christmas at England's house was usually a lonely thing. So he told his brother he would come and offered to bring a dish. His offer was gently but firmly rebuffed. "Just bring Sealand and be nice," Australia commanded before saying goodbye and hanging up.

Thus, the next day, England collected Sealand from Sweden, who seemed to glare rather menacingly at England as the tall nation wrapped a scarf around Sealand and muttered incoherently. England wanted to say that the gesture was quite unnecessary, but - as the apparent enmity was almost palatable - he decided against mentioning it to the taller man. The micronation slept the entire way to Australia's house and only awoke when England shook him somewhat violently. With his little brother rubbing his eyes sleepily beside him, England gazed at Australia's house. It was a large, open place cheerfully decorated with festive red and green decorations. Though it was yet light out, the lights were on, flashing on and off quickly. It was in stark contrast with England's own home with its formal, solemn decor and decided grimness. After studying his brother's house for a moment, he decided he liked his own house better. Sealand, though, was more impressed.

"Wow!" he exclaimed, all vestiges of sleepiness gone. "This place looks even cooler than the last time I was here!" He admired the decorations before making a beeline to the door. England followed at a slower pace and despite himself he smiled at Sealand's eagerness. When was the last time he had been like that? The twelfth century? Thirteenth? It had been too long.

England found himself in a large foyer with Sealand nowhere in sight. To his left was a formal living room; to the right was a dining room. Laughter echoed through the hallway from the back of the house. England followed the noise, occasionally pausing to admire a painting. Almost all of them were of Sydney, Canberra and various other cities, but there were a few portraits. Many were of prominent Australians, though there were a few of his own monarchs

About midway down the hallway, there was a large archway sandwiched between two large desert paintings. More titters erupted from the room, so like the logical man he was England deduced the others were holed up inside. With a smile on his face and a friendly greeting on his lips, he stepped in the doorway. The room was darker than the rest of the house, so it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. He immediately spotted Australia sitting on a large, blue chair. He wore a large grin on his face and had a mug clutched in one of his hands. Near his feet was a girl with with a side ponytail sitting cross-legged. She was smiling at Sealand who was currently in the middle of floor with his legs spread wide and leaning on his hands. New Zealand was sitting on a plump chair. He wore a blissful expression as he turned to look at the man to his left.

And that was when England's mood went to hell.

The man caught sight of England and scowled so darkly that the light filtering in from a large window behind him seemed to dim a little. "What the hell is he doing here?" Scotland boomed belligerently. He tossed his dark red hair angrily as he rose, and his thick brows snapped together. His countenance darkened, reminiscent of an impending thunderstorm. New Zealand eyed him warily and shifted uneasily in his chair; Sealand scooted back until he was all but in Wy's lap. The girl frowned at him but said nothing. Australia stood up and crossed his arms as he positioned himself between his elder brothers.

"I invited him," Australia said calmly.

"Why the hell did you do that?" the redhead demanded hotly as he glowered at the blond. England merely stared back with equal loathing. He knew he shouldn't have come; Christmas alone was a hell of a lot better than spending the holidays with Scotland. Just looking at him brought back unpleasant memories. He remembered all the times he had been picked on, ignored, cursed, assaulted-

"Because I wanted to have a normal family Christmas," Australia said irritably. "Wy has never met you, or England, or Wales, or Ireland. Sealand barely knows me, and he has never seen New Zealand before in his life. You will not abide to be in the same room as the other, nor can you even manage to be pleasant when you _talk _about the other. I sick of it, and I want you to call a ceasefire," he finished stubbornly.

Scotland laughed humorously. "What the hell made you think we would do so? Ever? You know what he's done..."

England finally spoke. "What _I've_ done?" he said incredulously. "Are you being deliberately forgetful or is old age catching up with you?" It was childish and immature, and England - the new and improved _gentleman _England - would never say it. But it felt good, especially when red shot up Scotland's neck. "I never initiated the violence, you arse - you started it all with your curses, insults and resentments."

"Well, that's the first time I've e'er heard of this," Scotland shot back. "I was content to live alone; was you who grew too greedy and tried to take me over, remember?" He laughed humorlessly. "And in the end you won, didn't you?" His voice was so bitter England flinched. He opened his mouth the respond, but another heavily accented voice cut in.

"Well, isn't this fine and dandy?" came from behind England. He swung around to see a rather tall man. His hair was dark red, perhaps a few shades lighter than Scotland's, and his eyes were a familiar green. A slightly shorter man stood beside him; his hair was a lovely tawny color, and his eyes, too, were light green. His too-long hair was pulled back in a queue, and his expression was far more congenial than the man to his left. "You never mentioned this, Australia." Despite his malevolent expression, his voice was remarkably cool and composed.

"Ireland," Scotland said affably. He nodded to the other man. "Wales." Both inclined their heads at his greeting. "You're wondering what's going on, aye? Well, Australia here-" he waved his hand in the man's general direction "-thought we needed some family bonding." At that he looked pointedly at England.

Ireland snorted. He entered the room only far enough to lean against the wall to the right of the archway with an unpleasant look on his face, to say the least. Wales moved around England without a word but summoned a kind smile for his brother. He gave wordless greetings to his other siblings before positioning himself behind the couch Scotland had occupied. An uncomfortably silence reigned for a moment before Ireland spoke.

"Australia, why would you think that this would work?"

"I admit, it was a long shot," Australia said with a breathy laugh as he ran a had through his hair. "I wondered if I was crazy, but...I'd like us to be a normal family for once." He glanced over at Wy and Sealand, both of whom sat there with wide eyes. "For my sake, for their sakes...armistice?" Scotland scowled darkly in answer and glowered at England. Ireland appeared to be amused that Australia would even suggest such a thing while England looked incredulous. Wales' expression was inscrutable. Australia's brown eyes darted from brother to brother earnestly before he sort of deflated with a dejected sigh. "I had hoped..." His voice trailed off.

"Well, you hoped wrong," Scotland snapped. "It will be a cold, cold day in hell before me and that particular brother reconcile." His brogue blurred the words as he grew more and more outraged. He stalked over to Australia until they were nearly nose-to-nose. "You don't know all that he put me through. You weren't there each time he subjugated me and my people. You're your own country. I'm not. You simply don't understand."

Something flared in Australia's eyes. "I know all right. He controlled me, too. Remember that? My people were persecuted and bullied into conformity. I had few rights. There were no barters over land or under-the-table deals. We had no kings or lords to bribe. I watched everything I knew change and suffer. I was no jewel like India. But..." Emotion clogged his throat. By now his face as flushed, and his eyes were shiny. Thick silence fell as Australia composed himself. "_But _I forgave him." He gazed at his brother levelly. "I didn't allow hate to rule my life."

Scotland looked away. He muttered under his breath and moved away from Australia to stand sulkily near a window. No one seemed to know what to say. England knew Australia was right, but he'd be damned if he admitted it first. Ireland pushed himself away from the wall but made no move other than that. England glanced at him warily before taking a couple steps back, causing Ireland to flash the blond a rather grim smile. Wales cleared his throat before speaking. "I must say, I agree with Australia." His voice was soft, but the other nations whipped their head around to stare at him. He shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny but remained firm in his resolve. "I forgave England long ago." He turned to the brother in question. "I only hope you can forgive me...Arthur."

Suddenly his vision blurred, and England can only nod. It took several attempts before he could respond. "And I you, He...Henry."

Wales smiled at his little brother. Unfortunately, the tender moment was rudely interrupted by Scotland. "Are you out of your goddamn mind, Wales?" he demanded.

"No," was the calm reply. "What happened happened. We were all young and foolish. England conquered us, yes, but are we entirely blameless? We bullied him mercilessly. We never helped him when he needed it. Is the callous way he treated us any surprise?"

But Scotland refused to be swayed. He took refuge in mutinous silence and crossed his arms. Ireland wore a rather pensive expression and stroked his chin as he considered Wales' words. England stared at the carpet with one hand rubbing the back of his neck. "I'll...I'll forgive you...if you'll forgive me," England bit out. He was loathe to beg for forgiveness, but he was a _gentleman_. He could do this, he could be the bigger man.

Scotland laughed; it was an unpleasant sound. "Well, isn't that magnanimous of you," he sneered. And just like that England and Scotland were yelling insults at one another. Ireland, unable to resist, jumped in, defending the other redhead and maligning England. Australia and Wales wore equally shocked expressions while New Zealand hopped out of his chair and moved away from the arguing trio. The youngest siblings, who had been all but ignored until then, suddenly made themselves know. Wy shot up and ran towards the doorway. Loud sobs were torn from her throat as she blindly fled. Sealand followed her, blinking hard to keep the tears at bay. New Zealand immediately went after the children. With hands clenched and an alarming fire spitting from his eyes, Australia took several strides forward.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" he roared. His brothers fell silent, startled to see the usually relaxed man taut with fury. "Can you not be civilized enough to even pretend to like each other for _one damn day? _Do you see what you idiots did?" He laughed mirthlessly. "Of course not. You're in your own little, narrow world. Your sister, your brother... They both just ran out of here in tears because of you. You know what? This was all a mistake. You guys will never grow up, will never be mature. We don't need you." And with that, Australia stalked from the room. His footsteps echoed and faded as he went to find his siblings. The brothers looked away from one another and moved in different directions. All was silent until Wales deigned to speak.

"My brothers," he said quietly but clearly. "No matter what happened, I've never been ashamed of you. Now...now that is no longer the case." And then he, too, left them.


End file.
